Follow Me
by Schnee
Summary: Harry returns to a place full of grief and memories of happier days... Harry's POV


The whoosing waves give a soft sight as they peacefully flow onto the sand. A light breeze runs through my hair as do my fingers shortly after. I breathe in, but my lungs won't give room to the salty air. It's been half a year since I last came here. Nothing has changed. Changes in nature always pass slowly, smoothly and give us time to accept them, to let go of what we were used to. Other changes come over us so quickly and by surprise, that we are literaly knocked over and take a lot of time to realise what has happened. This is why I am here after all that time. I want to see, to understand, why he had to leave. Why, of all people it was him who was taken from me, by the place we both most loved.

Slowly, I wander on the wet ground that the tide has left. Hands fumbling with a shell that has crossed my way along the shore, I watch the water as it pulls back into the north, towards the sun that is about two fingers high over the ocean. We used to watch it sink into the mighty ocean like a giant ball of glowing fire that entered the water and made it boil and fume far in the distance. I close my eyes, dropping the shell. Back in the past, his lips soflty brush over mine...

Eyes remaining closed I reach out with both my hands. Carefully, I lay them around his waist and pull her closer towards me, feeling a long forgotten sensation in stomach. It lasts only seconds for somewhere in the distance, a gull starts it's ugly tune. It grips and pulls him from me. I hold him, beg him to stay. But he dissolves before me. I open my eyes, burning like the sun, that now dips into the water. And then I remember. I remember how we used to lay down besides each other, like lovers and how we talked like friends. How we cooled our skin in the mud and waited for the flood to wash us clean. Taking my shirt of I kneel down on the ground.

It was only with him that I had this feeling of total trust. In the sea, in him, and in myself. We knew, even when we were so calm and relaxed that we fell asleep, the sea would not grab us. It liked watching us on those warm summer-evenings, and we liked being watched. It deigned us for so long, in a silent agreement. Until the very day he left me. As I lay my head onto the wet sand, memories flush back into my head. I turn it to the side, overwhelmed by my feelings. And there he is, his eyes a tone of blue and grey, an expression of curiosity and the search for words. I remember every detail of that last evening we shared. Slowly he opened his mouth but there was no sound...

Looking back, I find it was very unusual for him to be so…insecure and I should have given him time. Let him speak. Instead I leaned forward to kiss him and he was thankful and gave in to it. I often wonder what it had been, that had made it so hard for him to speak. What was he going to tell me? Shaking the thought out of my head, I look up into the darkening sky. Minutes pass. I let the calmness take over my mind until my eyes close again and let my memories lead me. I reached out, softly touching his hand. It seems so fragile under my fingers. I take it, let my thumb run over it's back. I feel him react, lightly pressing onto my hand. In some distance, the flood announces it's return. It would come and it would go again. But we would stay, hand in hand, despite the tides, and if one of us had to go, the other would follow, wherever it might lead us.

I feel myself grow sleepy. Something tickles my feet. The warm mud surrounds me like a mattress of flowing silk. Maybe that was, what he had wanted to say. Could he possibly have known. Know that we were oh so close to waking up from this most wonderful dream that had lastet for over three years now? Had he only wanted to reassure our long-before-made promise? That I would follow him, should we ever part? And was I blind enough to not sense his intention, the way I usually did? I never wanted it to end like this! Never ever did I want to leave him. But I did. I live, and he's dead. Or is he? At least I can still feel him, remember him...his soft hair, the bittersweet scent of his love...

In my memory, I tenderly press onto his hand. Yes, he's still there. More than ever I feel his presence, right beside me. I breathe in in a sight. My lungs fill with the warmth of sleep and before any more thoughts enter my mind, it carries me away on whooshing waves, as I tightly hold on to his hand, following him...


End file.
